


Serenade Imperfecta

by junxouji



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst, Artists, Deaf Character, Fluff, Illness, Love, M/M, Pain, Romance, Sick!Jongin, basically a deaf jongin and a in love tao, shithead!kyungsoo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-20
Updated: 2014-07-20
Packaged: 2018-02-09 16:09:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1989306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junxouji/pseuds/junxouji
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jongin’s holding onto the seconds because soon it will all go away. Soon, he would fade into a island of nothingness. He was a man on his own island. There are moments when the sounds go numb, all he sees are their mouths moving, their teeth clattering against each other.. it’s moments like those he screams.</p><p> </p><p>But he couldn’t even hear his own weeping. He couldn’t hear Zitao’s foots in the darkness, only feel them.</p><p> </p><p>He couldn’t hear the “I love you” but he knew somehow. He just knew.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Serenade Imperfecta

 

 

* * *

 

 

He fell asleep to a pounding headache, the vibrations of his neighbor’s part making his body curl in a unseemingly fit of rage, and a plethora of sleeping pills.

It was sometimes the little things that made Jongin crumble. He blinked, his eyes fuzzy from sleep - a certain drowsiness associated with a cocktail of sleeping aids, staring at the ceiling above him with the same tortured look that said why did I have to wake up?

He sat up with a groan of pain as lighting shot up his spine to rub the tuft of dark hair on his head. Yawning mutely as he rubbed his eyes, his dark eyes fluttered open. The dull humming of his alarm clock could be heard throughout the room. However it was a faint sound that should have been much louder to Jongin. He couldn’t be too sure if he actually heard it or not in all honesty. It was much like the memory of a sound, ringing in his head mocking him as he kicked the blankets from his tangled gangly legs. That’s what frightened him most. Sometimes he would swear he heard something. But then it would go blank and he would hear nothing but the voice screaming in his head.

He tries to untangle himself, his tired body dragging behind him, from the lingering scent of smoke dancing in his untamed hair or the foul aftermath of a night spent in a drowning abyss of booze in his mouth. It was the blackest of all deprivations; self-pity. Because you hated yourself for becoming so pathetic but had not the strength to climb up from your bottomless abuse of self.

He takes a brief glance in the mirror, the smudgy mirror, that hadn’t been cleaned since Kyungsoo lived with him as he scanned his face. It was the face of a man who once was handsome. There was still some lingering proof of his former beauty scattered across the face but the alcohol and abuse had taken it’s toll. Cheeks sunken, eyes too dull, skin stretched across his face, waxy tan skin, and chapped lips. Jongin was a ghost of the man he use to be.

When it happened all melodies and songs faded away into a suffocatingly black silence. He had nothing left to care for. As his hearing went, so did his life. He was being submerged and painfully deluged in silence. His head was being pushed under the waves of nothingness, being tormented bitterly by his own inner voice that Jongin absolutely wanted nothing more than to allow himself to be buried in his misery.

He was going to die anyway. If not today, then tomorrow. If not this week, then the following week.

 

Kyungsoo was chattering again. Not only had he rudely invited himself in but he refused to give Jongin back the key back to their once shared apartment. Instead he was hell bent on making Jongin’s life more unpleasant. Because obviously the other hadn’t gotten the memo Jongin’s life was completely without unpleasantries. Kyungsoo spoke to him discursively like Jongin wasn’t dying. Like he wasn’t already near deaf, if not completely. As if slowly the will to live on was not being pulled from him wonderingly. Even walking down the grocery aisle with him to stock Jongin’s empty fridge, Jongin tried his best to hide his limp. As Kyungsoo spoke digressing from subject to subject, Jongin stared blankly watching the lips move.

“You ought to smile more, ya know?” Kyungsoo said looking back at the other pitifully. “How do you suppose someone will fall in love with you if you cannot even smile every so often.”

Jongin dismissively walks past his former lover to go take a smoke break outside. Because if the other said one more thing to him, he was going to strangle his bobblehead.

He particularly hated Kyungsoo the most he supposed. It was the type of loathing that brought about fear and a gut clenching feeling Jongin wasn’t accustomed to. There were the silent muffled laughter that sometimes sounded like strained cries, the sweet syrupy way Kyungsoo use to sing him to sleep, and the way his voice rose an octave when Jongin’s lips brushed against his neck’s tender spots. As he escaped the grocer, he knew Kyungsoo would simply continue shopping as if he hadn’t run off.

Because more evidently, Kyungsoo was a bitter reminder of what Jongin didn’t have anymore.

Jongin watched in absolute affection as the ending chorus flowed from Kyungsoo’s heart shaped lips. The song left a ripple of crescendos stirring Jongin’s heart alive. His heart thumped loudly like a uneven staccato. It was a chorus of chaos when Jongin came to terms with the reality he was in love with Kyungsoo.

He waited outside the concert hall for his boyfriend with a tearful set of warm chocolate brown eyes and a bouquet of roses. Kyungsoo came out eventually after changing from his performance attire with a wide smile when he spotted Jongin. He did everything but leap to him, planting a chaste kiss on his lips.

“Did you love it? I sung it for you.”

Jongin crushed him in a hug, suddenly no longer caring about the roses. “You were amazing. More than amazing.” Like an angel singing from the heavens especially for me.

It was through music that Jongin fell in love with Kyungsoo and through music that Kyungsoo quickly fell out of love with him.

 

_“Jongin, you’re going deaf. You’re not dying.” The words left Kyungsoo’s lips before he could take them back. Jongin stared for a long moment before saying anything._

_“Is that what you think?” He asked sarcastically. “And what could you know? What in the fuck could you know about what I am going through?! As I recall you weren’t there at the hospital with me! You didn’t make it to a single appointment. What could you possibly know?”_

_“You’re putting all your anger on me! I didn’t make you go deaf. I don’t deserve this. It’s sad but you have to get over it.” Kyungsoo snapped back, “You just drink and spit nonsense at me like I am the one holding your head under water.”_

_“Then why don’t you just go?” Jongin demanded, “Clearly such a talented singer couldn’t be held down by his deaf devoted boyfriend.”_

_Kyungsoo’s eyes widened, hurt echoing through them. That was something Jongin could see, not hear._

_“That’s not what I am saying Jongin. You know I love you. I’m just busy and stressed with the recitals. You’re unhappy with me and I just don’t understand why.” Kyungsoo murmured, “I just want us to be happy. Like we use to be.”_

_“We will never be that way again, Kyungsoo.” Jongin remembered saying as he stormed to the bedroom locking it. He didn’t come out for three days and when he did Kyungsoo was gone._

Jongin couldn’t hear the “Watch out!” or the loud screeching of the trunks tires as he went to cross the street pulling a cigarette out.

He wasn’t sure what happened but he was suddenly pushed violently to the ground. The silence was ringing in his head at the weight crushing on top of him. He let out a loud moan of pain that surprised himself because he couldn’t even hear himself when he cried from pain.

The stranger moved from on top of him, animatedly trying to explain that he was about to get hit by a bus and should have been paying attention. He was much taller than Jongin. He wore a faded rosey pink sweater, far too effeminate for Jongin’s taste. His eyes were narrow and dark but gentle. His lips were moving at a rapid pace. Jongin couldn’t hear but he could piece together things. However a painfully jolt of pain ran up his arms and he looked down at his wrist which was awkwardly tilted at an unnatural angle.

The man’s eyes followed his and the man paled instantly. He was pulling Jongin up gently, gesturing for him to hold his broken wrist in place as he quickly scanned the curb for where he had parked his car. Neither man noticed Kyungsoo coming from the grocery store shouting for them to wait.

 

“He’s deaf.” The doctor explained to the antsy Zitao. “Well, the more correct term would be losing his hearing. He’s not completely deaf as of now but he hears faint noises far and few between.”

“His wrist just broke and h-he didn’t say anything!” Zitao murmured, “Is he going to be okay? Can I go in and talk to him?” He shoved his hands in his jeans nervously. He felt awful. Not awful for saving his life, oh God no. But he could have tackled him a little gentler.

The doctor nodded. “Be warned though, he’s still suffering from the shock of losing his hearing. He can be quite nasty. But he is a good guy deep down.”

Zitao’s brows jilted in worry as he walked past the doctor to slowly open the door. He guess there would be point in knocking or trying to make his presence known as he stepped in the cold hospital room.

Jongin was sitting up in the bed, his head banging from needing a cigarette and his wrist as numb as his hearing from the pain killers. His eyes raised when he saw the tall, looming figure in the corner of the room awaiting for Jongin’s approval to come closer.

Jongin ignored him.

Eventually Zitao stepped forward as he pouted some dejectedly. He moved closer, taking a empty seat. He wanted to ask a million questions but knew the other had not the capability to answer them. He could talk but he couldn’t hear. He wouldn’t hear the concern or the sincerity in Tao’s voice which was disappointing. Zitao sighed and a light bulb went off in his fast thinking Chinese mind. He pulled out his phone and quickly typed;

**You have no idea of how sorry I am.**

He leaned over and sat his phone with the message up on the screen in the other’s lap that was covered by a ugly floral nightgown the hospital gave out. His legs were covered by the itchy cotton blankets as his eyes drifted down to the phone’s screen.

“Did the doctor tell you?” It was the strangest sensation to be able to speak but not hear your own voice. Jongin had no idea if he spoke too loud, too soft, or if he mispronounced something.

Zitao’s eyes lit up and he nodded picking up his phone again to type.

**He told me you’re deaf. Which explains why you didn’t wear me trying to warn you for the trunk.**

“You should have let it hit me.” Jongin’s eyes flickered to the screen then he turned and laid on his side, back facing Zitao. The conversation was over. Zitao would go back to his life. Jongin would return to the boundless and infinite silence. He closed his eyes and let the absence and the cessation of sound consume him.

 

He knew sooner or later Kyungsoo would find out. Jongin was being kept in the hospital to make sure his vitals were okay. To his dismay the tall dark haired fellow didn’t leave. Instead he watched curiously as the doctor ran tests on him. When they would undress him, Jongin’s cheeks would inflame, and Zitao would quickly turn away.

It was when Jongin was being given fluids that Kyungsoo marched in with an army of all the people he didn’t want to see.

“YOU!” Kyungsoo pointed accusingly at Zitao, “You did this you big giant oaf! What if he was seriously injured? How would you take responsibility?”

“Excuse me?” Zitao muttered questioningly looking at Kyungsoo then Jongin in confusion. “I saved his life.”

“Saved his life? By what? Bulldozing him down? Great job. How is he going to write with a broken wrist?” Kyungsoo demanded, “You know he’s a writer? A damn good one if you ask me.”

There was something about Kyungsoo Zitao didn’t particularly like. “I didn’t ask you. Nor do I need your finger pointed at me. I did you a honor.” Tao’s words were no longer cheerful and sweet instead laced with malice. “You ought to sit down before you really tick me off.”

Kyungsoo huffed but said nothing else as he went to coo at Jongin’s side. Jongin stared questioningly at the two as his parents pushed past the two huffing hens at the boy on the bed.

 _You had us worried you shit._ His mother signed to him furiously. Her frown was apparent as her fingers worked quickly. _You know you shouldn’t be outside. It’s too dangerous._

His father’s face was grim, the grey scarce hair reminding him that the only few people he could talk to normally were dying.

 _I’m sorry._ He managed it barely with one hand.

 _Jongin, we understand you want your independence but you’re leaving us no choice_. She spelled out slowly. _We’re going to tell Kyungsoo you have--_

 _You. Will. Not._ Jongin signed so quickly it was surprising. It was clear both Kyungsoo and Zitao were watching with mild curiosity as his nostrils flared. 

His mother threw her hands up furiously. Her head shook, but her eyes watered. “He’s destroying himself from the inside out! So damn stubborn!” She said angrily, turning to her husband, “Take care of the bills will you honey?” Mr. Kim nodded as he left the hospital room to settle Jongin’s debt. She sighed and patted Jongin’s blanketed legs. He was going to be so very displeased with her. “Jongin has a mild case of Imperfecta Osteogenesis. His bones are brittle and ill formed.” Jongin’s eyes grew hard. He knew not what she said but he could tell by the way Kyungsoo’s eyes flashed instantly to his face with betrayal written across it that she was telling them. “He’s not nearly as bad as some other children were and with the money we’ve put into his surgeries he can walk without looking disfigured. But we couldn’t fix his overall fragileness. He lost his hearing along the way.” She paused her lips thin. “When he was a kid, we were told he was going to lose his hearing eventually. _God_ , he’s only twenty.” And the tears that lingered on the bay came crashing down. “W-we were just s-so happy he wasn’t going to die! Now he’s suffering more than what he would in death! Always in pain, always in fear of hurting himself! He turns hard and cold.”

Kyungsoo stood quickly, embracing Jongin’s mother to his disgust. He could imagine what she was saying. He wanted nothing more but to shout for them to leave. He didn’t want to see the shocked sorrow on Kyungsoo’s face or the surprise on the tall man who put him in the hospital to begin.

“Get out.” Jongin snapped at them all. He didn’t know how it sounded but knew it sent the message across when Kyungsoo flinched. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want their pity. He didn’t want their suffering.

Right now, he would kill for silence. His eyes shot up to meet Zitao’s and he was shocked - there wasn’t pity in the dark eyes but anger. A burning anger that Jongin often saw in his own eyes.  A anger for him giving up, throwing everyone out, and ultimately becoming the nasty person he was.

Zitao’s mouth moved slow as if deliberately trying to allow Jongin to read them. I’ll save you. He had not a clue what Tao meant but Jongin knew whatever it was, he was in too deep.

  
  


Something changed from that moment forward. Jongin’s life was flipped upside down. He knew what it was but refused to put a name too it. Zitao was always there. After he got out from the hospital, he helped around Jongin’s house. Jongin wouldn’t admit it but he was grateful. Doing anything with a broken wrist was impossible. And when Tao was there, Kyungsoo didn’t come around.

The throes of his torment were not as intense with Zitao was there. Partially because Zitao wouldn’t allow it. When Jongin would snap at him, he stood patiently and went on about his business. He didn’t argue with him.

 

Tao had ordered pizza. They watched a movie with the subtitles on.

 

Tao did his shopping for him. He even brought him back his favorite type of bubbletea. Jongin sipped it suspiciously.

 

There was something odd about Zitao. He was attentive. More so, than anyone else had in his life. Jongin often experienced spasms of pain. It was when his body would brush too roughly against something or when it got too cold and his body stiffened up. He tried to remain stone faced but Tao saw through it almost instantly.

  
  


It was one chilly evening Jongin thought the pain was going to kill him that he curled in a blanket on the sofa as Tao did little chores here or there for him. He tensed when Tao sat cross from him, looking conflicted.

 _I can help you._ Tao’s hands were long and slender as they moved with new purpose. When had he learned to sign? Jongin’s lips parted but he was more taken back when Tao pulled the blankets from his body and took his arm gently as if to help him stand. Jongin stood.

 _What are you doing?_ Jongin asked his hands moving quickly. His thinly veiled expression was turned into a scowl.

Tao either didn’t know sign as well as he thought or ignored him. He opted for the second. He was pulled into the bedroom as he was told to sit down. Jongin awkwardly sat on the bed, his eyes scanning over Zitao. What was he up to?

When the other started to undress him, Jongin fought. What the fuck?! Tao was much stronger than him so it all came off. First his shirt was thrown aside and then his pants were taken off. He was about to punch Tao when he caught his hand in a tight grip.

 _I am going to give you a message. Relax._ Tao finally moved his hands and Jongin was sure no one used sign language more elegantly. It only had been a month knowing Tao. Yet, he signed perfectly as if he practiced diligently just to speak with Jongin.

It was overwhelming for Jongin who was pushed back on the bed, rolled onto his stomach. A blush, bright and red scolded his face. He knew Tao would finally see the full existence of his ugliness. Across his tanned legs and arms, were dark bruises. It came from running into things. Showing Tao just how delicate he was.

Zitao didn’t comment on his bruises nor the skinniness that couldn’t be natural. He only rubbed his hands together to warm them and reached over grabbing the lotion on Jongin’s bedside. The touch of Zitao’s slightly calloused hands were heaven. He started from his leg, his hand working slowly over the ankle. He rubbed the sore muscles with enough pressure to feel good but not enough to hurt him. He kneaded the soft skin, enticing a groan from Jongin he hadn’t realized he had in him. Tao wasn’t sure if Jongin knew he had let out that sound as his hands moved up slowly over the golden skin.

Golden boy, Tao thought absent mindedly. His gentle thin hands worked up his leg, massaging the crook his knee stopping only half way up his thigh.  His copied with the other leg until Jongin’s body was perfectly relaxed.

In reality, Jongin was floating on a cloud. His aching bones were screaming from the pleasure. Oddly enough, it wasn’t sexual. It was sensual, but not sexual. He imagined it was because Zitao had no intention of doing anything impolite. He was just like that. Too good..

When his hands worked up his back and against his boney sides Jongin’s face buried into the pillow as he whined lowly.

When Kyungsoo and he were together there was no cherishing. It wasn’t like this - which was odd considering the only thing Tao and him shared was the obvious fact they both knew he felt guilt for breaking his wrist. After Jongin’s wrist was healed, where would Zitao be then? It was a bitter reminder that nothing last forever. Not Kyungsoo, not his hearing, and certainly Tao was not an exception.

“You’re pretty.” Zitao murmured, “Broken and beaten but you’re pretty.” Why was his heart racing a the taller man let out the confession? Jongin couldn’t hear him, he would not know Tao was ever saying anything unless he turned around as his knuckles dug into the soft flesh of his back as he rolled them up the spine. Jongin groaned again. “You drew people like a moth to a flame. We just want to protect you.” He whispered, “So it’s a little discouraging when you don’t see what is painfully obvious. You’re deaf, not incapable...not blind.”

  
  


Zitao was acting weird, Jongin realized. He refused to look at him anymore. Jongin swallowed as he took a tiny sip of the soup Tao had brought with him on his daily visit to his apartment. Tao ate in silence which wasn’t uncommon for them. But he wouldn’t sign anything. He barely looked at Jongin.

A loneliness Jongin hadn’t realized he was missing crept up his chest uncomfortably. He was so use to it, so use to Tao taking care of him that he hadn’t seen the shift in Tao. When had Zitao gotten tired of him? More importantly when was he going to leave?

 

“He’s always over.” Kyungsoo complained. Jongin didn’t need for him to pause and write it down. It was becoming easier to read lips. He often practiced when Zitao would sing to himself when he helped Jongin clean around the house.

 _I fail to see how that is your concern._ Jongin signed knowing Kyungsoo’s knowledge of the language was minimum.

“Are you two dating?” Kyungsoo asked outright, continuing talking as if Jongin’s opinion was no matter. “Because I fail to see how you could possibly be dating. You couldn’t sleep with him.. not in your condition.”

Jongin’s eyes narrowed. He failed to see how that had to do with anything. Kyungsoo had left him. Kyungsoo had left when he needed him. And now that he no longer wanted him around, he was going to pull this stunt?

Tao was a fixture in his life. Though he was burdened by guilt to help Jongin he never complained about it. He was always there, never missing a date. He was patient, understanding, and kinder than anyone else had been. Jongin was not deserving yet Tao acted as if he deserved the world. Standing in front of the man who had proclaimed that he had loved him, Jongin was disgusted he ever believed Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo who had run as soon as things had gotten difficult.

“Are you in love with him?” Kyungoo asked flatly. “It’s me or him, Jongin.”

Jongin chewed his cheek. Was he in love with Zitao? He scoffed lightly as his hands jerked angrily. There was never a choice. Whether Kyungsoo knew what he said, he understood when Jongin turned from him and pointed towards the door.

He didn’t turn to see if the other left. He didn’t care. He just knew anytime, always he wanted to be with Zitao. He didn’t want to be without him. It might not be love yet. But it was something. And that was much preferable than the nothing he had with Kyungsoo.

 

"We're in love right?" Was Tao stupid for asking, knowing Jongin's eyes followed his lips but couldn't make out the words? "Right, forget I said anything." He knew he shouldn't be frustrated but it seemed Jongin hadn't only lost his hearing but his ability to return feelings.

Jongin sat on the sofa, he was reading a book when he glanced at Zitao who was busy editing something Jongin had one handedly typed. He wasn’t sure what the other said. He sat the book down. Tao? He knew nothing but his name and his patience.

_Tao, tell me about yourself. He worded out slowly with his hands. Tell me anything._

Tao’s eyes widened slightly from the paper he was reviewing. It was Jongin’s criticism for a article he read. He often forgot Jongin was a writer. He started at the purple cast covering Jongin’s wrist and smiled disappointingly. _What do you want to know?_ Tao moved his hands carefully.

_Your family, your friends, your job._

Tao thought for a moment. _I don’t have any family. At least none that still claim me. My friends I’ve lost contact with. And I work as a freelace artist._

_Why haven’t I seen any of your work?_

Tao swallowed. _Where were these questions suddenly coming from?_ Jongin just usually stayed quiet while he was there. _None of it is finished yet._

Jongin nodded understandingly.

 

One afternoon something changed again. Tao didn’t show up. It was the first time he had missed a day visiting Jongin. Jongin tried to not notice. But the constant presence was so addicting. So when he didn’t show up, it was like the fantasy Jongin had been harboring was being ripped from him. It was already a few months and his wrist was healing. He was scheduled that week to get the cast removed. Could Zitao no longer tolerate him?

He stared at the mug of coffee he had been drinking before the rage came. He twisted and slapped it away. The brown liquid spilled from the mug onto the wooden floors of his flat. He watched it.

_drip, drip, drip.._

He missed him. He saw him everyday for a few months straight. Yet he missed him now that he was late for coming over.

 

Tao didn’t show up for a few days. He came in, removing his shoes to find Jongin in the kitchen the cast removed finally and making himself tea. He jumped, startled, seeing Tao before he gave him a hard glare.

 _I’m sorry I disappeared on you. I found out something good. I wanted to get over here to share it as soon as I could._ Tao’s hands moved so quickly Jongin had to concentrate hard.

Jongin didn’t move to say anything.

 _I sold some of my paintings. Actually, I sold a lot of them. The reason you’ve never seen them is because I got rid of them all.._ Tao said and looked hesitant suddenly. _I’ve been saving up… for cochlear hearing implants._

Jongin starred. A hearing implant.. He didn’t mean..

 _Why do you look so shocked?_ Tao asked.

 _What were you thinking? How much guilt must you feel to overstep your boundaries? Who said I wanted or I needed your help?!_ Jongin’s hands moved quickly as they did angrily. _I do not want your pity or your guilt._

Tao looked offended. N _ever have I pitied you. I may have felt guilt at first but surely you didn’t think that motivated me to come here daily to make living a little more bearable for you?_

 _What other reason could you have for so unselfishly helping me?_ Jongin demanded, _Get out! Get out and do not come back._

 _No._ Tao signed aggressively, s _imply because you tire of me doesn’t mean I will walk out on you. You cannot accept maybe someone sincerely wants to help you. Would you be content if I let you drown in your misery?_

Jongin’s eyes narrowed. _I was drowning before you, certainly I wouldn’t be too bad off without you._

Tao scoffed. Jongin couldn’t see it but he could read Tao’s subtle expression change well now. _Must you be so stubborn?_ Tao demanded. _Can’t you see sometimes people want to help you because they care about you? Before me, you were a mess. You bathed in self pity and hatred. Am I being too presumptuous to think you grew to care for me and that changed? Even an ounce?_

Jongin sucked in a breath. His hand movements were hysterical. Rapid and saccato. Whatever whishing and whoshing they were making in the air with their movements it was clearly a ballad. _You want me to depend on you, lean on you! I am a mess. A God damn tragic mess. I don’t want to change it. My hatred, my pity, let me be consumed by it._

Tao finally moved closer. “Jongin, you know I cannot.”

Jongin could read his lips. His own trembled. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want to be with Zitao. He didn’t want to love him. He didn’t want to be afraid to lose him. He didn’t want to say goodbye. He didn’t want to depend so much on Tao he forgot he had to stand by himself. He lost his balance and gripped the counter, holding a hand up when Tao took a step forward to help him. _No, do not come towards me._

 _I will be next to you no matter how much time goes by._ Tao signed. _I know how to make you whole. I can reassure you. Hell, I want you happy. That’s why I worked so hard to be able to afford a hearing replacement._

Jongin’s lips trembled violently. _It’s a waste. They wouldn’t work on me. The nerves are too weak._

Tao’s world staggered a little. _How can you be so sure?_

Jongin gestured towards him dismissively. He carried his haggard body to the chair by the kitchen table and sat. _It was one of the first options my parents looked into. It wouldn’t work. Not with Type I Imperfecta. I am what the name suggests.. broken beyond repair. No cure. Dying in my body._

Tao’s lips closed tightly. He moved closer to Jongin. Zitao lowered to his knees, right in front of him, reaching up taking Jongin’s face. “I know you, Jongin.” The words were slow and deliberate. For Jongin to be able to read. “You’re not going to close me out because you’re deaf. Not because you’re sick. Certainly not because of anything.”

Jongin shook his head. Tao’s figure got blurry in his gaze and he realized it was because he was crying. How could he not notice his body violently shaking? Oh the Gods, Jongin thought. The sounds he must be making as he cried.

He buried his face into the top of Tao’s dark hair.

The pain came down like a tidal wave. It was brutal, unforgiving, and consuming. Everything he held in, was crashing down on the both of him. His heart was breaking because he did love Tao but he was dying and that was terribly selfish.

Tao was breaking because who he loved was scared. He was scared of dying, scared of loving, and scared of being alone.

“Jongin, look at me.”

Jongin didn’t what he said but he felt the vibrations of him speaking when they were this close. He looked up, eyelashes wet, his eyes full of sorrow.

“Jongin,” God Jongin, “I know you’re hurting. But I want to help you alleviate that pain.” He said slowly, more unsure of his words than anything else. “You cannot hear. It must be so lonely.. But I was thinking.. What if I painted what you cannot hear? I can show you a world where sound isn’t needed.” He switched to his hands. _I cannot replace the sound or the sorrow you feel..but I can show you a world where sound isn’t necessary. Where my ‘I love yous’ can be shown through the swirls and textures. A world where you don’t have to hurt.. You just have to let me._

Shifting to lovers would be easy. Zitao would make even more of a demand to take care of him. Jongin would only blush now and accept it.

“I love you Tao.” Jongin spoke, not knowing if he was coherent or not, “I love you and it kills me. I love you and know it’s unfair to you. That we could never be the type of lovers you deserve.”

_I think you have to allow me to be the decider of who I deserve._

_I will only hurt you._

_I heal quickly._ Tao smiled because he knew Jongin was done fighting him.

_I will make you hate me._

Very seriously doubt I could hate the sole purpose of my existence. Tao leaned up very slowly his lips brushing gently against Jongin’s. “I love you too.” Tao mouthed, placing a kiss on the corner of Jongin’s lips.

There was the silence in his head ringing uncontrollably. But for once Jongin wasn’t drowning in it. His head was above the currents of loneliness. For the first time in a long time he was okay - and it felt so heavenly.

Tao serenade of love may not have been traditional but sometimes the perfect imperfections where all you really needed to be happy.

Jongin let go.

And he let _love_.

 

 


End file.
